


Crossing the Border Between You and I

by hollowfirefly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Forests, M/M, Pen Pals, Teen!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3417182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowfirefly/pseuds/hollowfirefly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sherlock-<br/>I would be delighted to meet you but due to some anxiety of cities, could we possibly meet somewhere in the country? Perhaps in the forests of East Dorset. I know it seems sketchy but right on the edge of the country there’s a little cottage house. That’s where I’ll be in three days.<br/>I can’t wait to finally meet you. My hands shook this whole letter if you couldn't tell.<br/>Love, John”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three Days Before

**Author's Note:**

> This story just came to me while I was talking with my mom today about story ideas. I really liked the idea. I hope you guys enjoy! Comment, leave kudos, subscribe, etc. I hope to continue this story and keep it updated. Your support is everything to me. Thank you!

**Three days before**

Sherlock had been waiting for the post to arrive. This would be the letter that would define their relationship from here on out. He couldn’t stop thinking about what John’s answer would be. Sherlock had never felt this emotional over the post before, never felt so attached to someone he hadn’t met before. He hadn’t felt this attached to someone well, ever. John’s answer would define whether Sherlock and his friendship was real or false. And Sherlock was bracing for either at this point.

When Sherlock’s feet stepped upon the pavement of his driveway, he raced towards the door, bursting through to find a letter perched up against the fruit basket in the kitchen island. Sherlock grabbed it and ripped open the letter as he ran up the stairs, up to his room where he flopped onto the bed.

_“Sherlock-_

_I would be delighted to meet you but due to some anxiety of cities, could we possibly meet somewhere in the country? Perhaps in the forests of East Dorset. I know it seems sketchy but right on the edge of the country there’s a little cottage house. That’s where I’ll be in three days._

_I can’t wait to finally meet you. My hands shook this whole letter if you couldn’t tell._

_Love, John”_

Of course Sherlock _could_ tell. He could tell a lot of things about John like the way he was feeling when writing a letter. He could tell if he had siblings or not just from the way he dotted his i’s. He could tell if John had a significant other from the way he crossed his t’s. John eventually told Sherlock about all this. That he had one sister named Harriet but everyone called her Harry. That he was in fact single and alone.

Sherlock liked being able to talk to someone that he couldn’t see. Because he was able to keep all the deductions in his head, in his head, rather than spew them out at John. He was a little less afraid to meet him because most of the deductions Sherlock had made about him were already confirmed in the countless letters.

Sherlock hadn’t told anyone about John, it was unnecessary. They would just ask him pointless questions which could be clearly seen if they would just listen to what he said. Nonetheless, he would visit John and once John and him had finally met and could hang out together in person, then people would find out. They would simply see him and John together and there would be no need for useless discussion.

Sherlock quickly sat down to write his reply to John. He would try not to sound too eager but he doubt John would be able to tell if Sherlock was eager or not through handwriting. It’s not like Sherlock was talking to himself.

“ _Dear John,_

_I would be delighted to meet you there. Places don’t usually scare me. I have a knack for not being scared._

_I can’t wait to meet you either. Meeting you will be the best thing to happen to me in a while._

_See you soon._

_-S.H”_

Sherlock went to his closet and began packing up some clothing and things in a suitcase. It was three days away but even Sherlock couldn’t fool himself into thinking that he wasn’t as eager as his heart screamed he was.


	2. John's Chance At Redemption (368 days before)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But today. Today was different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have read, left kudos, etc. It means a lot. Please comment and let me know what you like, what I could do better, and what you'd like to maybe see in the story! Thank you and enjoy!

**368 days before**

John lived quietly. He liked his little chair next to the door. He liked the bookshelves that lined the cottage walls, filled to the brim with books. He liked the birds perched outside his window that woke him up every morning.

But he missed the people sometimes. His sister Harry visited him from time to time but she was so busy these days that he barely saw her. Sometimes on Sundays, when everyone was in church, he would go into the city and just watch. He liked seeing the people busily messing with their phones, bumping into each other, passing by, ignoring eyes.

John knew he wasn’t allowed to be seen, so he kept away. He didn’t want to accidentally bump into something or someone and be noticed. Some days he would go into town and there would be too many people so he would run back to his little cottage and read his guilty pleasure books like Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre.

But today. Today was different.

John thought he was beautiful. There was a slight hesitation in his step but a confident air in his aura. When he turned his head there was a crane in his neck, a contour of his jawline that practically broke down any defense against attractiveness that John had up. It made John feel tingly, a type of feeling he hadn’t felt since he was… well, younger. There was no way John and he could be friends though. John’s solitude was too prominent, too inflicting and he couldn’t have interaction. He couldn’t.

But he had to. So, on a whim, John scurried after him. He kept enough distance behind so the boy wouldn’t detect his presence. He made sure not to run into anyone and used this distance to admire the boy’s hair, skin, hands. He couldn’t see his face yet but he was certain it was beautiful.

The boy arrived at what John supposed was his house. The house wasn’t large, but wasn’t tiny. It was a nice size. There were two cars in the driveway and a family of three in the kitchen. The boy was just about to join them as the fourth member of their family.

If only John could have had a family like that. A life like that.

“Sherlock! Sherlock, Redbeard needs to be taken for a walk!” John heard a woman’s voice yell as the boy entered through the door. A dog, presumably Redbeard, ran up to the boy- Sherlock- and a smile broke onto the boy’s face. John could only see his profile but he instantly smiled with him.

Sherlock. His name was Sherlock.

John thought that maybe he could send the boy a letter. That if he told him it was a pen pal program he wouldn’t be too freaked out by it.

He thought he might try. The worst that could happen would Sherlock would ignore him and John would continue his solitude.

Maybe this could be John’s redemption.

John noticed that the tingly feeling hadn’t gone away and he wasn’t sure it would.


End file.
